


The mighty voice of a mute

by maxgaxiola



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, M/M, Muteness, learning to talk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 15:10:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxgaxiola/pseuds/maxgaxiola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurloz takes his place in a cozy little apartment in Florida with Kankri and Mituna as all of the friends go to college, UF. It just so happens, that Cronus, a bully from Kurloz's childhood and teenage years appears at UF for the course of Photography,the same course Kurloz is in. Will Kurloz learn to speak up to this bully,hide in fear,or perhaps find a romantic relationship?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. College

Kurloz's P.O.V

My bed head is the worst out of my human features. I don't bother to do my hair because, well? What's the point? Nobody notices me anyway. And if they do, it's all for the wrong reasons. My point is, my hair, it's not my everything. My voice is. Even though I don't use it.

I am mute.

A chosen mute.

My high anxiety has driven me to this point and yes, I see no alternative other than to be mute. My regular voice is raspy and nasally, at least its how I hear it. My voice.. when I hear it feels like broken glass coming out and people stepping on it and scrapping it across the floor. Whenever I hear it I want to vomit. Why must have I been cursed with such a scratchy voice that when someone hears it, they cringe? My own father, has told me my voice is pathetic.

Fine.

Don't hear me talk. Don't listen to what I have to say. I'll write it, and that will be the power within my hand. The marker on the white board.

The power of not talking is a great thing. People then start to notice you. And after a while of not hearing your own voice, you forget what it sounds like, but always the lingering of what you remember. A horrible sound. A horrible disease you want to forget you ever had. And that was my voice. I have always felt this way about my voice, ever since I was thirteen.

Was it the vocal surgery that was performed on my when I accidently swallowed a bottle cap? The scratchy metal sliding down my esophagus was painful, and I never want to experience it again.

As a kid, deciding your mute, or at least a chosen mute is one of the hardest things you go through in life. Harder than anything.  _Because_ , you have to get up the courage to ask things when you really want them. Getting a job, going to a good college. Typing can be easy, because you're talking behind a computer screen. But in real life? Your nervous and avert your eyes in many directions until you can either  _A)_  Tell then yourself that your mute, or  _B)_  Always come to the conclusion that you write down that your mute.

I can never tell anyone that I'm a chosen mute with my voice, because I have to really trust them in order to do it. So far no one on my Radar, Except Meulin who's deaf, has earned my trust.

I look up at the college campus of UF, The University of Florida. I have thick bags around my eyes, my hair is a mess, and my hands are shoved into my skeleton jacket. Today was the day that all new comers to the campus would sign up for college classes if you haven't already done so. I, was one of the people who haven't. To busy playing with Meulin's cats and too busy typing up new college drafts for more college courses.

I know that I had to take English, Math, History and Science. But that I could choose some other elective classes, which were cool. I didn't know what I wanted to be, but I had an idea. I moved past people, laughing and talking and seeing a flood of people just come out from the gates.

Anxiety washed over me.

I rushed over to the sign up board and was one of the first few people there. I quickly grabbed the pen and signed up for Photography and Fashion Design. I left the now group of people coming over to sign up. I slipped out and made my way inside, the halls were big. Not like ones you would see in high school. People walked the halls, chattering mindlessly about their majors to other people.

 _Talking, what a chore_.

I heard my name ring down the halls and I turned to see Meulin. She had to Talk so loudly, even If she couldn't hear herself. I smiled and opened my arms to embrace her. She smiled back and parted, using her ASL, I in turn did the same since I knew it as well.

_Hello Kurloz!_

_Hello Meulin._

_How are you?_

_Good, and you?_

_Fantastic!_

_Well that's good._

We both smile and she chuckles, I attempt and nothing comes out.

_So! What classes do you have?_

_Core, and I just signed up for Photography and Fashion design._

_Oh! Cool! I'm going to be in Fashion design too!_

_Really?_

_Yeah!_

_Well, I'll see you in there then?_

_Yup!_

_By the way Kurloz, are you in a dorm or an apartment?_

I make a thinking face and shrug.

_It's wanted to stay on campus for the first year I think, but I'm going to be with Mituna, sharing an apartment with him and Kankri._

She giggled.

_Have fun with his rants!_

I rolled my eyes.

_Sure._

_Well, can I stay with you? Perhaps we can stick to each other like glue and explore the campus!_

_After all, you can hear._

I nodded, smiling. My trusty white board tucked under my arm and Meulin humming happily next to me. College was going to be decent.

The college campus was beautiful. Freshly green cut grass out on the lawn, fast food places to stop in during lunch hour, and places to park your scooter and or car if you had one. But what bothered me the most was the people, if you were different, they looked at you funny.

Poor Meulin, she couldn't hear a thing. But she was happy, sometimes I wished I was mute and deaf.

I mentally shook my head,  _Get those thoughts out of your head Kurloz!_

Mituna and Kankri were over underneath a tree having a heated discussion about something that I didn't want to get into. Meulin pulled me over and I rolled my eyes, the two males saw us come up and got up from the ground. Mituna, always loud, and Kankri, always going on rants, they were  _made_  for each other.

I got out my whiteboard and marker, writing on it.

_What are you guys up to?_

"We're having a heated discussion about world politics, care to join?" Kankri said.

Meulin tugged on my sleeve and I translated it for her.

 _Leave Meulin and I out of this please, okay_?

"But why? Politics are such great aspects of our country. Do you have something against our country? Or do you not just like out president? The runner up? Or the people that run against the president. I believe that the president is doing a fancy well on doing job on running this country along with the veterans in Americ-"

I hit Kankri with my white board, way too many times I've had to do that.

_Look, I don't want to talk about politics. Can I just have some money to take the bus home to the apartment?_

"Sure," Mituna said handing me a couple of dollars.

I smiled and nodded, my way of thanking them. Meulin and I left Mituna and Kankri in their heated debate as we walked to the bus stop. Meulin did ASL with me until the bus came and we hugged. I haven't seen her since she moved away to go to a different school in New York, and that was in tenth grade. We kept in touch though, and now that she was back I haven't stopped playing with her cats.

As I sit on the bus I think. I think of all the people around me. How they talk and how their voices are all better than mine. I hang my head down low and think to myself.  _It's always going to be like this, huh?_


	2. Daily life

Cronus' P.O.V

_Fuck them_ , I scowl. They turned down my paper once again! Damn bastards. I lean back in my chair and balance my pencil on my upper lip and stare at my old PC from the year 100 B.C. Its old and crappy, but hey, it gets the job done. I get up out of my chair and move past all the crap in my room, going out and getting something to eat from the pantry. Some soup will do.

Its 3am and im dreadfully tired, I waited up all night just for this? Just so they can turn me down? I should give them a piece of my mind. Although they'll just skim past my writing and say:

" _Well, he tried his best, he's not really angry_."

I rolled my eyes and put the vegetable beef soup in a bowl and heated it up in the microwave, leaning on the counter.

I spaced off , partially falling asleep as I could hear my father snoring in the other room. I snapped out of my day dreams as the microwave beeped at me and grabbed the oven mits, opening the small door and grabbing the bowl. I learned from last time spilling hot soup all over me from grabbing the plastic too hard and too soon.

Setting it on the table I decided I wanted a drink, water would do fine. And some cigarettes, need my cigarettes. I grabbed a pack from my dresser draw and an ash tray and got settled in the seat, eating my soup and feeling down on the world.

God damn it, why couldn't I get into a good college? Well, I knew the answer to that one. I was a high school dropout, and not that anyone wanted a high school dropout. It's just that I just couldn't write a good college essay getting into one! I was never good at writing.

I sighed, finished with my soup and dropping it into the sink. I took my pack of cigarettes and the ash tray and stepped out onto the porch, closing the sliding glass door and sitting on the ratted old chair. I put the cigarette to my lips and lit the cancer stick, taking a deep inhale.

Blowing out the smoke into the cool fresh night made me feel real chilly. I propped my foot up on the small table and leaned back in the chair, watching the moon go down.

_Should I write another statement?_

_Should I write another draft?_

_What should I do?_

I took another inhale and closed my eyes, holding in the deadly smoke for more than I should of. In turn, I ended up coughing and spitting out the smoke. I rubbed my throat and groaned, my eyes felt tired. I needed some sleep, quick.

I took the last inhale of the stick and rubbed it out on the ash tray, and headed inside. I stretched, standing on my tip toes and then slumping down and going to my room, crashing on my futon and closing my eyes until sleep actually came to me.

The horrible sound of the  _piercing_  alarm in my ears tells me it's time to get up. I don't allow myself to sleep past 12pm, in fear of getting either too much sleep, or just being lazy. I do have stuff that I need to be productive with. I look at my computer, I just want to spit at it. Its old, yes, but it's another reason that when I look at it I have to see if any colleges accepted me. Which only a few said that they haven't.

 _You know what? Fuck them. I'm too good for them. Yeah, that's right. Cronus Ampora is such a dashing young fellow that he's too good to get into a good college like Harvard_.

_Yeah.._

It's good to self-talk, right?

I get up and rub my now messed up hair. Now I need to take a shower and style it up again. Style is an option, being clean is not. I stretch and make my way to the bathroom, dad is at work and won't be back until later tonight. He works at a bar, he's the co-owner of the bar and makes good money.

Our bathroom is purple, of all colours. Its purple with a hint of black towels and white granite tile for the counter, with brown tile. I think it is the  _ugliest_  bathroom that I've ever laid eyes on. The shower it wide and it's the only thing that I like about it, the bathroom that is.

I close the door and turn on the water, getting it to the right temperature. Then strip off my clothes and step in the shower. The water is hot, just the way I like it. Other times I'll like it lukewarm, but right now since part of me is mad I like it hot. I get the essentials, shampoo and conditioner and run the shampoo through my hair. I wait two minutes like it says on the bottle and rinse it off, then streak the conditioner through my hair, brushing it with my fingers.

I rinse it out with the water and proceed to wash myself with old spice. Gotta keep up my game you know? For the  _ladies_ , and men of course too. Rinse, again and I step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist and going to my room.

It's always a chore picking out what I want to wear. But basically I just go with a white shirt, black jeans, and a purple and white number 19 varsity jacket that I got from high school before I dropped out. After getting dressed, I go for another smoke, which they are out on the porch. Dad doesn't want me smoking inside the apartment. I roll my eyes and head for the porch.

I plop down in the chair and lean back in it, first playing with the lighter for a bit and wasting the fluid which is in there. Then I get serious and have myself a cigarette. I put it to my lips and take in the inhale of the bitter sweet taste. I smile and blow out the smoke.

I let my hand hang down, and stare out across the canal. Ducks are swimming with their babies, kids are playing in their back yards, I even see a raccoon scavenging for some food. I smile, life is pretty good in this small little community.

Another inhale.

I hold it in and blow it out in puffs. Smoking is kinda fun. I do it just to look cool, not because I like the taste. Also, because it calms me down. I balance the stick on my upper lip as its burning, and close my eyes.

_College._

_Where else did I apply for?_

_I think I write it down somewhe-_

"Ah, Shit!" I drop the cigarette on my shirt and it bounces off onto the ground. It burned my lip and I rubbed it. I picked up the cigarette and tapped it out in the ash tray, maybe I should eat something. I chuckle to myself as I get up and make my way inside and to the kitchen.

_Nothing here._

_Nothing there._

There are plenty of things that my dad likes that he buys for himself, but what about me? Ugh, so inconsiderate. I get out the toaster and some toast. The peanut butter is already there on the counter, do we have enough? I check, yeah, we do.

I hop up on the counter and wait for the toast to be done. I kick my feet against the cupboards and hum, feeling my hair. Its kinda dry, I can always blow dry it. The toast pops up and it scares me, I chuckle at myself. I love horror movies and yet toast always seems to get me.

I take the toast and spread the peanut butter around on it with a knife, then take a bite out of it as it melts in my mouth. Things I've always noticed is that when you smoke and then eat, it never really tastes good, the taste is a bit off. I shrug, whatever.

My eyes widened and I just realized something.  _Mail_. Mail is today. I start to run to the door but stop, my hair isn't done. I groan and grab the key to the mailbox, looking out the window. Nobody seems to be outside. I step out of the house and onto the front porch and look around. Nobody.

Good.

I finish up the last of my peanut butter toast and jog to the mailbox, seeing if the mailman had come yet. Success! He had! And a lot of mail too.

I grab it before anyone can see me and lock the mailbox and jog back to the house. I set the keys on the table and walk down the hall to my room while looking at the letters. I toss the ones for dad in his room and close my door to mine once im in it. There are three letters from colleges. Sealed to decide my fate.

I open the first one, it's from Tennessee university.

 _Declined_.

I hold onto the letter, then toss it, going to the next one. This one is from Chicago university.

 _Declined_.

I hold it and feel tears stinging the back of my eyes. No, I will not cry. Im about to not open the other one, the last one. But I do it anyway. What can hurt?

Florida university, UF.

 _Accepted_.


End file.
